The Journey
by ColorInside
Summary: The fairies of Oz and their impressions. - This was neither planned to be an actual Wicked-Fanfiction, nor am I sure that there are any fairies in Oz. This was school work. We had to write a short story with a first sentence already given. As I am - totally Wicked-obsessed - I tried to make a Wicked-Fanfiction out of it and set it in the little Oz of the fairies.


**The Journey **

_It was not easy, but Carol knew she had to do it._ She was a fairy. Well, she was half of a fairy. She hadn't paid the price yet – so to say. The journey waited for her. The journey that would truly make her what she is.

Fairies were little people. Not taller than a humans arm. In fact, the tallest of all were not taller than a humans arm from the tips of their fingers to the elbows.

At the age of 16 every fairy had to prove herself. "Prove herself" means travel through the Gidegau Valley, through the Sour Dessert, through the Mountains of Madeleine and finally, pass through the Wicked Witch's forest. And when they reach the castle of Lady Bell, the princess of the fairies, they would get their wings and would fly home in pride, accompanied by two guards of the princess, who would protect them, that nothing will be able to harm them on their journey back home.

The great day had come. Carol's 16th Birthday – the starting signal, the white flag – that allowed her journey to begin, had finally arrived. Yes, the day had already arrived, while Carol started her journey and she would have to walk through the most fearsome places of her beloved fatherland for at least two weeks. Her mother kissed her cheeks and hugged her tight. Her father called her his brave strong little pixie once more and pushed her shoulder softly. Her grandmother held up her chin and told her to be careful, then she gave her a hug and a kiss. The whole great family hugged and kissed her and wished her all the best. Nevertheless, when the moon rose, she disappeared far too quickly in the night.

Carol faced the hungry Gidegauvultures as she walked through the long Gidegau Valley that stretched itself to eternity, as it seemed. She sweated at day and she froze at night on her way through the rough Sour Dessert. And when she climbed the violet Mountains of Madeleine, she fell and bled more than once, and she cursed her mother and her father, she cursed her life and her purpose in life and she wished, she already had her wings, so she could fly over these damn mountains; oh how she wished!

Not long after she had at last subdued the giant violet Mountains of Madeleine, Carol reached the edge of the Wicked Witch's forest. All who had yet passed through told her, that that was really the trappiest part of the whole exhausting journey. There, they told her, she wouldn't have to conquer the forces of nature, but a human being, that was fuller of surprises than any sandstorm could have been.

And then she met her. She was as high as a building, higher, than the violet Mountains of Madeleine, as it seemed. Her face was half hidden by the brim of the pointed black hat that she wore and her hair was dark as night and flew down her shoulders like a river of pitch. She was not ugly. She was nearly beautiful. Beautiful in her own strange way. She was thin as a bone and her skin was green as grass. She was not old. Her face was young and gleamed with youth.

"Ah", she said. Her voice was as dark as her hair. "And yet another bug who claims for itself to pass through my forest."

Carol waited in fear. She remained still. The Wicked Witch stooped down to her and fixed her with an icy glare.

"So who are you?", she demanded.

"I'm Carol", said Carol and her voice trembled.

The witch held a broom, as high as a tree and she leaned on it as if it was a walking-staff.

"And you think you are brave enough to survive my forest?"

Carol tightened her chest.

"Yes", she said, "Indeed, I am!"

"Well, my pretty", said the Wicked Witch, "Everyone who wishes to cross my forest, would have to fulfil a task."

A task?

"Follow me", said the Wicked Witch.

Carol followed her deep into the woods. The trees seemed to grow more horrible with each step they took. They seemed to move, to have wooden claws that wanted to catch Carol. Finally they stopped at a small, gargling spring. The witch preserved the small space between her and the sparkling water. While it was only a spring for her, it was a dangerous torrential river for Carol.

"This spring is the pure evil", said the witch dramatically. "It is poisoned water. And it cuts my beautiful forest into two ugly halves."

She moved her head and gave Carol a look that was full of mischief.

"If you are able to dry this spring with whatever magic or spell you can cast within this day, you may move on. If not, you shall never cross my forest!" Her voice sounded more and more like a thunderstorm with every word she said. And it was full of sarcasm.

The witch left her alone and Carol sat down on a mossy rock. She put her face in her hands and sobbed. That was the end of her journey. She would never get her wings. She would never meet the princess of the fairies, who lived far beyond this terrible forest. She couldn't do magic and she couldn't cast any spell. Furthermore: Why would a witch ask her to cast a spell on a sparkling spring, while she could have done it herself long ago? As Carol sat there and cried, she heard a soft warm voice that was calling her name.

"Carol, Darling, why so blue?", asked the voice. Carol turned back and saw an overwhelming light, which nearly burned her eyes as she tried to face it.

"Who is there?", Carol demanded.

"I'm the Sun", said the Sun. "Tell me, Dear, why are you crying?"

And Carol told her. She told her everything. The journey, her wings, Lady Bell – the princess of the fairies – her purpose in life, the Wicked Witch and finally she told her about the task, the Wicked Witch gave her to fulfil.

"So", said the Sun, "You have to dry this spring within this day, right?"

Carol nodded.

The Sun smiled at her and she raised high above Carol and the mossy rock on which she sat. She stretched her rays and her face grew red as she sent down her heat as strong as she could. Fizzing and sizzling the spring disappeared in the forest floor that was as green as the witch's face. All that was left of the once sparkling, gargling spring was a dry line, which still divided the witch's forest into two halves.

As the witch returned in the evening, she couldn't help but let Carol pass through her forest. She watched her go and gave her a reluctant glare.

At last Carol entered the doors of the Glasspalace of Lady Bell. She got her wings and she got to meet the princess of the fairies and she was like she always dreamt she would be. She was kind and warm – just as the Sun. Accompanied by two of her guards, Carol finally flew home, smiling a smile of content, that didn't leave her face until she arrived at her parents.


End file.
